For A Good Conversation
by nothing-rhymes-with-ianto
Summary: Takes place while Justin is in LA. Brian and Justin talk on the phone. Just a little thing about their communication. Info about the inspiration for it in the A/N.


**So, this is the first fic I've written that's almost purely dialogue. Takes place while Justin is in LA. It was inspired, oddly enough, by the website Texts From Last Night. While reading it at about 3 AM, I came across this entry: "You've ruined blowjobs for me. You were the Mozart of sucking dick, where every other girl is like awkward elevator music." I thought it sounded like something Brian would say. I decided to write this fic.**

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Brian's phone beeped. Despite the trick's muffled noises of protest, he reached over and pressed talk, bring his cell to his ear. He twisted his fingers in the trick's short hair.

"'Lo?" he asked, half-way breathless.

"Hi."

"Sunshine. Hello. How's big bad LA?"

"Good. It's warm. You'd like it out here. The guys are hot."

"You say that every time you call."

"I know. It's all you'd like about LA."

Brian gave a little grunt of satisfaction as the trick did something that wasn't completely boring. "I think I'll stay in the Pitts, thanks."

"Am I keeping you from something?"

"No. It's fine."

"The loft or Babylon?"

"Twat. Loft."

"Just making sure you weren't bugging any of the other patrons, again." He could hear Justin's grin through the phone.

"Fuck you."

"It still amazes me that you can carry on a conversation perfectly well while getting your dick sucked."

"It's one of my talents."

"Right. More like this trick is mindblowingly boring."

"Got it in one."

"Thought so."

"You know, you've ruined blowjobs for me. You're like the fucking Mozart of sucking dick, while all the other guys are like awkward elevator music."

"Thank you for that inspiring analogy."

"Shut the fuck up and take the compliment."

"That was a compliment? Wow, Brian, you're really sweet."

"Shut up and thank me."

"Thanks, Snookums. Now you can buy me flowers."

"Fuck you, you little shit."

"You wish."

"Yeah, I do."

"Aww, you just admitted that you missed me."

"Christ. When did you get to be such a lesbian?"

"Partners, Brian. Remember what we said before I left?"

"I'm still amazed that I was sober when I agreed to that. Are you sure you didn't slip me roofies or something?"

"Yes, I'm sure. You just love me, that's all." Brian grunted in response. "Anyway, I'm calling to tell you that I'll be here for another month."

"Well, that's a fucking turn-off."

"Yeah, but I get a ton more cash, a nicer tan, and you get another month of fucking tricks in the loft and time alone before I get home."

"You said that like it's a bad thing."

"Isn't it?" Brian's silence, his non-refusal, spoke volumes. "I should let you get back to enjoying your blowjob."

"If you call this enjoying."

"Well, do you want me to go or not?"

"Debbie told me to tell you that she misses you." Justin read the subject change and sentence for what it meant—Brian missed him. "And Emmett wants you to send him Matt Damon's come."

"You're gross. Fuck that."

"Isn't that the point?"

"Fuck you."

"You wish."

"I do."

"Right. And I—hold on." Justin heard the hitch in Brian's voice and listened to him come over the phone. He heard the muffled "Get out" and the trick's fumbling, the door rumbling shut on the squeaking track. He pictured Brian kicking his jeans all the way off and stripping off his shirt before getting into bed.

"That was hot." He said once he knew Brian was listening again.

"Aren't I always? Why are you staying another month? Can't you draw just the same here in the Pitts? It's not like your hand changes position. Or becomes a flipper."

"No, they want me for consulting for character and shit like that. Since Michael's not here, I'm the only one who really knows how Rage talks and acts. They need me for script updates. And the fucking storyboards."

"Well, you'd know Rage best."

"Yeah, all sides of him."

"Is that a compliment, Sunshine?"

"I guess."

"You're as bad as I am."

"Shut up and thank me."

"Right. Twat."

"I miss you. I miss your cock."

"Not the rest of me?"

Justin grinned." No, just your cock. What time is it over there?"

"Three-ish. I think. I don't feel like turning over to look at the clock."

"Uh huh. I should let you get to sleep. Make sure to have a wet dream about me."

"All the time, Sunshine."

"'Night, Brian."

"Yeah."

"Later."

"Later."


End file.
